


The Only One I Know

by soupytwist



Category: Strangers With Candy
Genre: M/M, Politics, Ridiculousness, Ted Nugent, gratuitous cameos, race relations, schools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-28
Updated: 2006-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-09 10:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soupytwist/pseuds/soupytwist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck didn't think Understanding Minorities Day would be good, but he wasn't expecting <i>this</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only One I Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snoopypez](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=snoopypez).



> It was actually a coincidence that this happened to be posted on snoopypez's birthday, but shh, don't tell her that. Happy birthday, Jaime!

The very-nearly second-worst day of Chuck Noblet's life started out just like any other. He was a guy who liked routine, and he went through it as usual: get up when the alarm clock starts blaring Top Ten Reasons To Hate People Who Don't Love America, have coffee, lie to the wife, go to school. There was nothing to indicate the horrors that were to come.

He didn't notice at first, because Geoffrey was wearing an Eskimo costume.

This wasn't all that weird by Geoffrey standards, however, so it wasn't until Coach Wolfe walked past him in a kimono that he started to worry. Coach Wolfe had totally gone after Geoffrey that one time, and somebody who'd done that had no business wearing anything silky and patterned within 100 yards of him. He glared at her in the faint hope she might set on fire or something. Much to his surprise, instead of getting the Evil Eye back, she paused, smiled at him, and said "Morning, Mr Noblet! Your costume's in the office. You'd better hurry or - uh-oh! - you might be late-a-roonie!"

"For what?" Then memory broke over him like a plate, and he groaned. "Understanding Minorities Day is today? Do I have to?"

"Of course you have to," she sniffed, obviously disapointed. "The Indian kid will be really upset if you don't show up on the catwalk show in the Me Big Chief outfit. You don't want to get sued, do you?"

She stalked off. Chuck blinked a little and tried not to wonder what the ominous feeling of foreboding in his stomach meant. Since this was as good an excuse as any, he crossed the hall to talk to Geoffrey, who didn't actually look bad in the Eskimo outfit. In fact, Chuck was just in the middle of congratulating himself for not using the word 'adorable' when Geoffrey took down his hood and the bombshell hit.

"Your HAIR!" cried Chuck, clutching his chest. "Your beautiful hair!"

"Um, what?" said Geoffrey, looking deeply confused at this response before dashing to the nearest reflective window and fussing with his hair. "Oh, crap, I hate helmet hair. I didn't think Eskimos got that. Damn them!"

"No, not that," said Chuck, turning away to illustrate the dramatic and deep nature of the trauma he had just suffered and using his 'I hate to tell you this, but' voice. "Your _curls_, they're _gone!_ Somebody _took them!_"

Geoffrey stopped checking his hair and stared at Chuck. "... yes, his name was Tad, he was a hairdresser."

Chuck whirled around, appalled. "You have a hairdresser?!" He looked around suspiciously for people, and since there were only a few students having some kind of riot at the other end of the corridor, dragged Geoffrey into the nearby supply closet for properly private conversation.

"I don't like it in here, it's all dusty!" complained Geoffrey, brushing down his Eskimo costume. (It collected dirt like nobody's business, but Principal Blackman had completely ignored his request to have the Aztec Warrior costume instead, on the completely ridiculous grounds that they had no Aztec students in the school. Geoffrey had pointed out that they didn't have any Eskimo students either, but Blackman just said he was missing the point, at which Geoffrey had decided to make do.) Also, he'd forgotten that whenever they were in here he always got jabbed in the back by boxes of chalk and textbooks and other useless things. He kicked a box. Stupid closet.

"We're here to talk about your hair, Geoffrey, not for you to kick boxes!" snapped Chuck. "You let this Tad person cut your hair!"

"He said it looked nice!" retorted Geoffrey.

"And did he have hair like that?" demanded Chuck. "Did he?!"

"That's not the point!" Geoffrey glared, and wished the closet had more light so Chuck could actually see and appreciate how much effort he put into it. "And he's in television!"

Chuck stopped fussing and started peering through the dark, trying to see Geoffrey's expression. Estimates of sluttiness were sadly difficult to make from a sillhouette. "He is not! You're just saying that because... because!"

"Because what, _Chuck?_" Geoffrey tried to huff, only accidentally knocked over a whole load of cardboard cut-outs of Ted Nugent. He couldn't even remember why they had them, now, so he just kicked one and sighed, which meant it took him a second to realise Chuck hadn't replied and had started making slightly disturbing snuffly noises. He put out a hand, and accidentally patted Ted Nugent before getting Chuck's head. ".. Chuck?"

"I'm sorry!" Chuck sniffed into Geoffrey's shirt before deciding the Eskimo costume sucked for that and pulling out a tissue from his pocket instead. "I just, I can't believe you cut off your hair...your beautiful curls!"

Geoffrey patted him again, cautiously. "They'll grow back."

"Not in my heart!" wailed Chuck. "And it looks stupid with the Eskimo costume."

Geoffrey stared at him in the gloom, more than a little discomfited, especially since he hadn't thought Chuck really noticed anybody else's hair. At least, Chuck hadn't commented on the hair in the paintings he'd done, even the one of Chuck in Restoration costume with the huge wig.

Chuck mistook this silence for sulking and added "What? It does," in his most petulant tone (which was very).

"God dammit, I'm not sulking!" protested Geoffrey, although usually Chuck would have been right. It was really annoying that Chuck's distress was distracting him from the terrible insult Chuck had just levied at his very expensive haircut that he'd gone to the all-male salon across town especially to get. "I was just thinking..." He shifted a bit so he could actually get his arm around Chuck properly without being attacked by strange things with student germs all over.

"Thinking what?" asked Chuck. Geoffrey poked him. "Oh! _Thinking_." Chuck considered for a second. Sex with Geoffrey wasn't as common an occurance as he'd like, and besides, apparently unlike everybody else at Flatpoint, Chuck was neither stupid nor blind. Pleasingly, even after he'd taken into consideration the travesty against the universe that was Geoffrey's haircut, the math definitely added up to "have sex now". Also, he deserved it to help make up for the terrible trauma he'd just suffered, and then he leaned in and kind of forgot to think about that sort of thing because wow, kissing Geoffrey was way more fun than kissing his wife. He kept forgetting.

Geoffrey, for his part, had forgotten that the Eskimo costume was such a pain to get on and off . In hardly any time at all, they were flustered and out of breath, trying to get the bulky top half over his head. Chuck's cord jacket was much easier, although Geoffrey decided not to tell him that he was fairly sure they'd knocked over some paste or something while getting rid of it. It didn't matter anyway; it had been a good few days since they'd done this, and that was totally unfair. As was Chuck's shirt - stupid shirt. He slid his hands underneath it, over warm skin, and grinned to himself when Chuck shivered a bit and shoved him back against the shelving in response.

Unfortunately, this knocked something over, and Geoffrey just had time to look up before a huge looming face was bearing down on him.

"Argh, Ted Nugent!" squeaked Geoffrey, and flailed wildly in an attempt to rescue himself from the pile of cardboard. "Get it off me!" He sat up and breathed for a second, admiring his restraint and courage in the face of adversity. "We're under attack!"

"And whose fault is that?" said Chuck. Geoffrey immediately remembered that the Nugent cut-outs were totally Chuck's, but didn't say so, especially because Chuck then reached down to help him up. Chuck's hands were warm and the light from the cracks around the door was just enough to make out that his smile wasn't the 'in my mind, I'm imagining that I never have to talk to you again' one he used most of the time. Geoffrey decided that made him worthy of some more kissing - for one thing, they hadn't got to the really fun part yet and Chuck smelled really nice. He bit Chuck's neck, then pulled them both backwards while going for Chuck's belt.

Chuck went to help with the buckle, but got swatted away. Chuck didn't mind all that much; that way he could go back to undoing the buttons on the shirt Geoffrey had been wearing under the costume, and Geoffrey was much quicker with the clasps and also really good at -

"Fuck!" God, Geoffrey was really good at that. He grabbed hard at Geoffrey's shoulder, trying not to fall over, which was surprisingly difficult when all his attention was on what Geoffrey could do with his mouth. "_Fuck_." It was entirely unfair that Geoffrey was _quite_ so good at that, but then - Geoffey did the twisty thing and Chuck gasped - he couldn't really complain as long as he was getting the benefit of it.

Geoffrey's knees were kind of cramping up, but he really liked this - it was fun and Chuck liked it enough that it worked for getting other favours out of him later. The noises Chuck made were always good too. He reached up with his left hand - just _there_ \- and was rewarded with a very satisfying groan as Chuck came. He swallowed while congratulating himself that yes, he was the master and-

"Ow!" On the other hand, he could totally do without accidentally injuring himself on random things he couldn't see in the goddamn dark. He straightened up and turned so he could reach it and throw it away in properly dramatic fashion. "Goddamned whatever it is! Can we get an actual _room_ next time?"

"Sure," said Chuck, who was still out of breath and not really in a mood to disagree with anything Geoffrey said. He leaned forward to pull Geoffrey closer for a kiss. "Mmmm...whatever."

"...okay.."

Chuck's hand was now down Geoffrey's pants, which was just fine by him. As far as Geoffrey was concerned, it could stay there. Especially with the - god - moving, and if Chuck's other hand kept with the stroking that one bit of his thigh that always-

Geoffrey opened his eyes just in time to make out Chuck wiping his hand on Geoffrey's boxers.

"We need to keep tissues with us," said Chuck. He yawned and put an arm round Geoffrey.

"Not if we actually, uh, have a bed," said Geoffrey, yawning too. "You promised." He gave Chuck a pointed look. "And you don't like dust or old workbooks or knocking things over in the dark any more than me."

"Maybe." Chuck rubbed his elbow where he'd bashed it and sighed at the reminder of the reasons they tended to shell out the money for hotels. It totally sucked that they had to spend their time together in small cramped spaces with strangely malevolent objects, and Chuck spent a moment blaming the people responsible- wives, bosses, and children. And maybe the immigrants. But Geoffrey wasn't other people, and the slants of light were only emphasising the fact that rumpled and petulant was actually a really good look on him. He reached out and ran a hand through Geoffrey's now short hair.

"I suppose it's not so bad. You could have gotten it shaved off."

Geoffrey's hands immediately flew to his head in horror. "God no! Don't say things like that!" They both paused to consider how scarily huge Geoffrey's head would look without any hair at all. Geoffrey petted his hair consolingly."It's OK, hair, I'll never get rid of all of you."

The potential threat of The Head That Ate Flatpoint thankfully dealt with, they both had chance to realise that there was quite a lot of noise coming from outside their closet. Noise like... students. Chuck tried not to think about how he had to go back out into the world of students and wives and _other people_, people who wanted him to wear a stupid costume, and immediately decided to take it out on the students. He sighed again and passed Geoffrey the top for his Eskimo outfit, which had somehow ended up draped over yet more cardboard cutouts of Ted Nugent, before tucking in his shirt and scrabbling around for his own jacket. It was on the floor getting covered in grime, as usual.

Geoffrey, having brushed himself off and resigned himself to sticky underwear, reached for the door handle.

Chuck grabbed his arm. "We can't do that! There's people out there!"

"We've got to leave sometime," pointed out Geoffrey. "We can just... lie it out. It'll be fine - and anyway, it's not like we've got a choice."

"We could wait until somebody invents teleportation," muttered Chuck. He sighed. "All right, let's go." He raised his voice as he opened the door, blinking in the sudden blinding light. "And that's why the gringo cleaning staff aren't doing enough to get out of their dead-end jobs and are only going to destroy our country through laziness if they keep getting handouts."

"Thanks for that tour, Mr Noblet," said Geoffrey, doing his best to look very earnest despite the fact bitemarks were pretty visible just at Chuck's collar. "I feel really... informed."

"Noblet, Jellineck, there you are," came Blackman's voice. They both whirled around to face him, and discovered that he was apparently celebrating the day as a Haitian voodoo priest with a huge carved wooden mask. Geoffrey tried to surrepticiously adjust his pants, which suddenly seemed to be all twisted up. "And why aren't you in costume, Noblet? Or are you going as a middle-aged homo? Hahahaha!"

"I was... just telling Mr Jellineck here how I'm looking forward to illustrating the long plight of the American Indians," said Chuck. He felt fairly confident he didn't look like he'd rather run off and continue molesting the art teacher, which was a definite plus. "You know - Cherokees, Iroquois, that kind of thing... er ... how difficult it was to accept the inevitable triumph of western civilization, strict gambling laws..."

He breathed a sigh of relief as Blackman turned to the mysteriously appearing Indian student, who was passing with a huge pile of text books. "You'll want to be there for Mr Noblet's turn! And tell him how enriched and appreciated you felt being understood so completely as a representative of your culture!"

The student looked both confused and slightly scared at this coming from behind the mask. "But, er, I'm from _India_..." she stammered.

"Enriched and appreciated! Tell him!" boomed Blackman.

"I feel enriched and appreciated!" squeaked the girl. "Can I go now?"

Blackman paused, mask tilting thoughtfully to one side as he considered. "I think so. And you two -" he added, gesturing to Chuck and Geoffrey, who were still stood around mostly trying not to look gay- "you go as well. You've got kids to inspire with... with something! Get to it!"

And they did. (And Geoffrey felt very kind for only making Chuck pay a _little_ bit for not appreciating his new hair.)


End file.
